Boys Book of Hunting and Fishing

7/28/2019 Boys Book of Hunting and Fishing

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INGH. MILLE


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THE BOYS' BOOK OFHUNTING AND FISHING


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THE BOYS' BOOK OFHUNTING AND

FISHINGPRACTICAL CAMPING-OUT,

GAME-FISHING AND WING-SHOOTING

BY

WARREN H. MILLEREditor of Field and Stream

AUTHOR OF "CAMP CRAFT," ETC.

FOREWORD BY DAN BEARD

NEW YORKGEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY


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Copyright, 1916,

BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

. . i > toinches, any bore specified, one can pretty


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72 SHOOTING FOR BOYS

nearly order a gun by mail. I would however goto considerable trouble and expense to get to some

large city where a number of guns are kept instock so as to try them out personally, for if a

gun does not fit you exactly it's all off as far as

crack scores are concerned, no matter how hard

you practise. First, it should hang well and bal-

ancenicely

inyour

hands;

second,it should come

to shoulder instantaneously and without requiring

any adjustment whatever subsequently on your

part. Shut your eyes and throw the gun to aim,

pointing at some object which you had in mind

when you closed your eyes. Now open them ; yourright eye will be looking directly down the barrel

and somewhat over it if the gun fits you. If your

eye appears to be more than a quarter inch over

the barrel it needs more drop ; if you seem to be

below the breech or too far down, the stock is too

crooked for you, try another with a straighter

stock. In the matter of stock length the trap and

field guns are irreconcilable. The trap length will

be too long for quick work in the field, not less than

14% inches, while, for boys, a field length of 14

or even 13% is essential unless the heel is to catchin your armpit every time you lay the piece. Agood way out of the dilemma is to get the lengththat just fits you for quick work afield and then


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CHOOSING A GUN 73

buy a rubber recoil pad, which is to be laced over

the butt when trap shooting. Finally, weight; if

you are a large youth and will make a sixf ooter of

a man, you want an eight pound gun. If light

built, slender and wiry, 7 to 7% will be much bet-ter. The same applies to barrel length: A bigman will want a 32 inch barrel or else he will get

the fault of overswinging. A light-weight couldnot swing such barrels with either speed or ac-

curacy; for him the 30 or 28 inch, the latter for

brush gun work particularly. If you can afford

the additional charge for automatic ejectors by all

means getthem.

Youwill bless the

money youspent on them every time the ducks go crazy over

your head and circle about like a lot of sheep while

the ejectors give you instantly a clear gun into

which to shove a new brace of shells.

Among the trap grade repeaters, Winchester,Remington, Marlin and Stevens all put out fine

guns, weighing from 7% to 8% pounds, all guaran-teed 70 per cent, pattern, all with matted top rib

to avoid barrel reflection. The drop is fixed at

about 2 inches at the heel and 1% inches at thecomb, and the price runs around $33 net. One of

these guns, the Winchester, won the Grand Ameri-can Handicap last year, shooting against hundreds

of fine $200 Daily and Westly-Richards special


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trap guns. In general the Winchesters excel in

lightness and all-around trap and field qualities;

the Eemingtons are noted for their hard hitting,dense patterns; and the Marlin and Stevens for

smooth and fast action. Like the double gun, it is

impossible to designate any one of them as "the

best"; it is entirely a matter of individual prefer-

ence, and,as all

boysare born

gun-cataloguestu-

dents, they know every piece in the action of all

these guns by heart and have already made their

own individual selection. This article deals with

general points which any and all of them must

have to meet the requirements of a combined trapand field gun within the range of the boy's pocket-book.

What of the boy who already owns a gun andhas not yet gone into the trap shooting game ? It

may be a cheap Belgian, or one of the good old

Eemington doubles unfortunately no longer manu-factured and now worth their weight in gold; it

may be a hand-me-down Piper, Clabrough, Greeneror Purdey that father used to shoot; or it most

likely will be just a gun, one of those $7 single-

barreled boy's guns which were and still are thefirst choice of the 12-year Christmas. Can these

be used for trap shooting? First go out and pat-tern it. Fire a charge of T 1/^ chilled, factory


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CHOOSING A GUN 75loaded shell, at a piece of paper forty yards off,

and then count the pellets in a thirty-inch circle

drawn around the centre of the pattern, checkingoff each pellet with a lead pencil as you count it.

One and one-eighth ounces of 7% chilled contain387 pellets, how many can you count in your circle ?If averaging 70 per cent, for ten shells the pattern

willdo for trap shooting and you next take

the

gun to your gunsmith's to be straightened. If he

tells you it is hopeless, get a leather cheek padfrom any of the big sporting goods stores and

build up the comb to around l 1/^ inches drop, so

that when you cheek it your head will be properlylaid over the barrel. Many a fine gun has been so

equipped for trap work, its owner not caring to

go to the expense and risk of having his fine stock

worked over by some ordinary town gun and lock-

smith. These men usually spoil everything theytouch in fine guns, but there are men in the bigcities, like Dannefelser of New York, Wundham-mer of Los Angeles, and Adolph of Genoa, N. Y.,who can do fine work on fine guns and be entrustedwith the most precious family heirloom in the gunline.

Most of these cheap guns will be found to shoot

too open for trap work, but will answer for prac-tice and learning the game of swinging and point-


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ing after having been adjusted to fit by addingrecoil and cheek pads. After you have gone far

enough to be convinced that there is the makingof a trap shark in you, it is time to pull father's

leg for the price of a fine gun such as I have out-

lined above. I know one youth who won back theentire price of his gun at the very first big shoot

he went into.


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CHAPTER III

THE " PING-PONG ' TRAP

As told in our first chapter, the Boy's first

lessons were with the hand spring trap, and when

he got so that he could do about 65 per cent, hits

at all angles, the thrower standing beside him

and releasing the trap without warning, I decided

to try out the "ping-pong" trap, so called. This

is a light affair, costing but $1.50, weighing but

nine ounces and consisting of a wooden hickoryhandle eighteen inches long with the standard trap

throwing fingers bolted on the end of it, makingit 24 inches over all. It will thus pack readily in

a standard brown canvas camp duffle bag, so I

stowed one in our baggage, together with 20 blue

rock clay pigeons, when I took the boys down to

Barnegat for a camp over the Fourth.

We made camp in a grove of pines the day be-fore the Fourth, five boys and two grown men, and

after the crowd had turned out early next morningand fired off all their crackers and used up all the

powder brought for a small brass cannon, we gotdown to the serious business of the morning of the

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Fourth, which was trap shooting for the young-sters and revolver practice for the grown-ups.

They all had a swim while we were looking overthe ground (every boy had been in his bathing suit

from the moment we hit the beach) and now theycame shivering after us with their coat pockets full

of shells and the precious 28-gauge ready for serv-

ice. The first question was what could they do

with the ping-pong trap 1 Could boys of from ten

to thirteen make it go with any speed and accur-

acy? And the answer was that they could someof them as soon as they got the hang of it. One

left-handed boy nearly blew himself up trying to

throw a pigeon while everybody scattered and dugout for the bushes to get out of his possible zone of

fire. Then he noticed that the trap will only work

right-handed, that is the movable release fingerworks only to the left so that it must be thrown

right-handed. We had several .300 batters in thegang but they could do nothing with the trap until

they realised that you do not swing it like a base-

ball bat you simply have that same sling to yourarm that you would use in wielding a whip to get

the finger to release properly.The Littlest Boy, who was but a shorty, couldn't

throw a pigeon a little bit because he thought he

was a golfer, and the golf swing is "nix" with the


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THE "PING-PONG" TRAP 79

ping-pong trap. We were throwing the pigeonsacross a sandy point where they could easily be

retrieved whole after dropping, so we soon hadtwo or three throwers in practice and getting ac-

curate enough for the gun. The Boy stepped out

with a shell in the 28 and I led off with the first

pigeon result a clean miss! it was miles out of

rangebefore he

foundit

andfired. Then one of

the boys threw for him, with the same result. Wethen found that they were going much too fast,and the remedy was not to try to throw them easy,for then they would not leave the trap at all, but

to loosen up the tension on the movable throwing

finger by the small nut for that purpose. You

see, this movable finger grips on the pigeon and

holds it by a spiral spring on a small steel rod

which connects with the fixed finger. By tighten-ing or loosening this spring, the trap will release

the pigeon on a hard throw or an easy one depend-

ing solely upon the tension of the spring. So we

set it loose and made an easy toss. The pigeonwabbled out slowly and The Boy nabbed it before

it got twenty yards. Too easy ! Tighten up the

spring, my lads ! Pretty soon we had the springjust about right and began to experiment with

angles. He could smash anything that went awayfrom him at almost any angle ; but I finally got his


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goat by stationing him behind a bush, while an-

other boy threw the pigeon across him and he had

to get it before it got out of sight behind a smallpine which grew just beyond. He missed these

regularly I'll admit that it was a mighty hard

shot but just as soon as we began throwing them

at him at a slant, Bang! Smash! he got time

enoughto

pickthem

upover the

sights.I believe that he was not leading those crossing

birds enough, for I have had them thrown to mefrom a regular trap house, and believe me, those

incoming and crossing birds are some hard! In

the first place they are right on top of you before

you find them with the gun muzzle, and then theyare so close as to be very hard to hit because the

pattern of shot has not had any time to spread.As they get closer every minute until they almost

land on your head, I found, after missing a lot of

them that the trick required was a fast swing

holding about four feet ahead of the bird with the

gun muzzle going like the mischief. Every hit

would then blow the clays to fine dust, showing

how close the pattern was. Five straight was the

best run I ever made with them.As we had but twenty blue rocks, and, one after

another, these got smashed or broken from falling

we did not get enough of the crossing birds by The


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Boy to let him find the proper lead and I am con-vinced that at that stage of the game such shooting

was too advanced for him.Summing up for the ping-pong trap ; as a light,

cheap and easily carried pigeon-throwing tool it is

all well enough, and if .one cannot afford the hand

spring trap, by all means invest in one of these.

Theyare

byno means as accurate in

throwingin

any desired direction, and in the hands of a novice

are quite as apt to come out of the trap fingers and

hit a bystander as to go out ahead where expected.

One's general impulse is to duck for cover when

some harum-scarum boy gets hold of this trap and

proceeds to show the public how to pitch a pigeonhe is quite as likely to soak you as to throw it

where he intended. All of which takes the

shooter's mind off the real point of the game to

break that saucer with a shotgun. But a little

practice will get a fellow so that he can put 'em

over the plate with reasonable control, and, by

speeding up by tightening the finger spring he can

make them hard enough to require a fast gun.But in general I should arrange the development

of a boy wing shot as follows: First, the handspring trap, then the standard fixed spring trap

set at six to sixteen yards in front of the shooter,

and finally the ping-pong, walking afield with the


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82 SHOOTING FOR BOYSshooter and springing pigeons on him at unex-

pected intervals and unknown angles, such as

shooting them through a glade in the forest, or anopening in the brush, just as the real bird makes

his get-away. Such shooting is too hard for the

beginner and it is a waste of pigeons and shells to

attempt it before the intermediate steps have been

mastered. Really, the next thing after the hand

spring trap is to go straight to the standard trap,

starting with the twenty-eight-gauge at six yardsif the boy is around ten to twelve years.

This was the next step that I took with The Boyin this story, and as I realised that he would soon

reach the limit of the twenty-eight and not come

back to it until he might some day become a wonder

gun pointer I decided to try him out with the 20-

gauge. What I mean by the above is that, at adistance of around ten yards, the limit of the

twenty-eight for ordinary shooting ability is

reached, though a crack shot can take the 28 and

stand at sixteen yards from the trap and still geta big per cent, of them. This is because he finds

his birds so quickly that they are broken inside of

thirty yards from him,while a slow

manwould not

find them inside of forty yards when they would

be out of range for the 28. But an ordinarily fast

man is not handicapped at sixteen yards with the


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20-gauge, and a boy will do better with it than with

a larger gun because he can swing it quicker. Afriend of mine breaks 24 out of 25 with his 20-

gauge at the standard sixteen-yard distance and

he is no crack with the 12-gauge either. So, for a

boy, the 20 is the next logical step.

The Boy in this story is a husky individual for

his age of lO1/^ years, taller and bigger boned than

the boys of 11, 12, and 13 who camped with him.

He stands 4 feet 7% inches and weighs over 70pounds, and so, although the 28 would undoubt-

edly be the best field gun for him, because of the

quicknesswith which he can swing it, the 20 would

have to be his gun for standard shooting at the

traps.

The two guns compare as follows in weights and

dimensions, both single shot, full choked weapons :

28-guage, weight 5% pounds, stock length 13inches, barrel length 26 inches, total 3 feet 4 inches,

powder load 2 drams, shot load % ounces. Forthe 20-gauge, weight 5% pounds, stock length 13%inches, barrel length 30 inches, total length 3 feet

9 inches, powder load 2% drams, shot load %ounces. There you have the whole story. Thekick of the larger gun will be about the same as

the smaller because its additional weight compen-sates for the heavier charge, and the 20 will swing


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84 SHOOTING FOR BOYSmuch slower because of its longer barrel. But, asthe gun is already at shoulder in the standard

trap shooting holding the long barrel is no

handicap, as witness the 32 inch and 36 inch bar-

rels used by professional trapshooters who would

simply have to use a 30 inch barrel for a brush gunwhere speed in pointing is essential.

In our next we will have the story of how TheKid finished with the 28 and graduated into the

20 for standard trap shooting, after which he was

ready to take his place in a regular squad.


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CHAPTER IV

PRACTICE WITH THE STANDARD TRAP

IN two chapters of this series we experimentedwith the hand spring trap and the ping-pong trapfor throwing clay pigeons in taking the first stepsin learning the art of wing shooting. Both of

these can be made easy enough for the beginner,and yet at the same time too hard for the expert.

By that I mean, that if the pigeon is thrown byeither of these traps with easy spring and directlyfrom the side of the boy shooting he will find it

easy enough to break enough of the fleeting claysto encourage him to practise as long as there are

shells to shoot. But if you attempt to go directfrom this sort of practice to all sorts of surprisestunts as well as crossing and incoming birds the

per cent, of hits at once drops so low as to utterly

discourage the beginner. An intermediate stepis necessary,

somethingin the line of the standard

trapshooting outfit with the trap in front of the

shooter. This cannot be had with the hand trapor ping-pong without considerable danger unless

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86 SHOOTING FOR BOYSa pit is dug or a board screen put up in front of

the shooter. Of course if you spend your good

money on a hand spring trap the thing to do is toput up a board screen or dig your pit, so as to

have the advantage of both standard trap practice

and field practice with the same trap. It is much

quicker than the standard "expert" stationary

trap used in the open field,for the latter

youhave to walk forward to reload every time, whereas

a boy seated behind the screen with a pile of blue-

rocks and a hand spring trap can load it and fire

it almost as fast as you can reload your gun, aim,and call "Pull!"

However, as I happened to have a standard sta-

tionary trap I put this on a cart and took it out to

the field for our first experiments with the twenty-

eight in standard trap shooting. This trap is se-

cured to a box by its screws and the box has two

stout stakes driven into the ground behind it to

take the kick of the trap. If you do not providesuch a brace the trap will kick backwards and

waste most of its energy that way, with the result

that the pigeon will make only a feeble flight of

a few yards. Having staked it cut, I laid outa set of marks beginning at six yards from the

trap, then ten yards, thirteen and sixteen yards,our idea being to find just how far back from


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THE STANDARD TRAP 87the trap you could get with the twenty-eight-

gauge, and still hit 'em with any reasonable fre-

quency. The shells used were loaded with 14grains of dense smokeless powder, equivalent to 2

drams of bulk powder, and the shot load was %ounces of No. 10 's chilled. The Boy took his sta-

tion at the 6-yard mark, aimed the piece over the

trapand called" Pull !"

A straight-away "Dead! Nothing to it!'The next shot was an easy right quarter.

* * Pull ! '

"Dead! Well centred!" The next a straight-

away again. "Lost! Shot too high, son." The

next a hard right quarter "Lost! You didn't

lead that fellow enough. Try again.' ' Another in

the same spot :' ' Dead ! ' ' Back to a straight-away

again for his sixth shot,' Pull ! " " Dead ! Say,

Kid, you're a shark!"

Now I gave him one of my old discouragers, a

mean left quarter. ' ' Pull ! " " Lost ! Shot 'waybehind him. ' ' We eased up the angle still keepingit left quarter. "Lost! I guess those left quar-

ters are too hard for you yet." Back to straight-

away, "Pull!" "Lost! We've got your goat

now, Kid brace up!" Another straight-away"Dead! All to smash now you're getting mad

soak it to 'em!" Another straight-away,

"Dead! What? again! We can't lose you!"


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88 SHOOTING FOR BOYSNow a right quarter, "Pull!" "Dead! Bustedright in two Humph, I guess we '11 have to move

you to the ten yard mark.' '

The above is no fancy dream but comes right off

the score sheet, which is before me as I write.

Adding up we get out of twelve shots, seven hitsor nearly sixty per cent, which is encouraging

enoughfor the

beginnerand better than most men

do with the twelve-gauge for quite some time after

beginning practice at the standard range of six-

teen yards, all angles. Analysing, he got five out

of seven straight-aways, two out of three right

quarters, and missed both left quarters. That

tells quite a story in itself, for trap shooting is

like baseball and lacrosse and football not to be

learned in a day. I could see at least fifty shells

to be expended, one after another, on getting the

fast left hand swing required to hit those left quar-ters with any regularity, and a straight box ofshells put in on the right quarters, both at six

yards before going any further. And this would

only be so much practice ; it would tone him up a

bit, but real solid improvement, the form that hits

'em every time, would not come until many boxesof shells had been put in on those birds. The

straightaways would take care of themselves ; they

only bother the slow shooter, and The Kid was


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BREAKING THEM


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THE STANDARD TRAP 89

quick inclined to snap, in fact, and this can onlybe done with certainty by the veteran crack shot.

But this afternoon's shooting was to be devoted

to finding the limit for the 28-gauge, and startingin with the 20 at this limit, so we tried five shells

at the ten yard mark :i '

Ready, Kid ?' '

"Pull!" "Dead! Nice quick shot." An-

other straightaway; "Lost!" "Guess you over-

shot, as you were a bit slow and the bird was drop-

ping when you fired." Another "Lost! Too

quick, over anxious let's try a right quarter."1 < Pull ! " " Dead ! Busted to bits ! " A quarter-ing bird sometimes has the same effect upon aboy's nervous make-up as doubles have upon a

man. It is human nature to act quick and sharpwhen anything is visibly trying to run away, and if

a man gets slow in his time at the traps just givehim a few doubles and he will shoot like a fiend in

trying to get both of them. In the same way a

quartering bird scooting across your field of vision

awakens all the shooting nerves into instant action.

The next bird was an easy right quarter and he

dusted it so we scored it as "Lost," for no visible

chip fell out and that is the rule in trap shooting.The bird wabbled as it fell and had a stab from a

single ten pellet in it when picked up.

Moving to the thirteen yard mark The Boy be-


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gan to show signs of distress. He got just one outof five birds, and when I tried it myself I missed all

three birds thrown to me."Gee, Pop, but you're slower than running

molasses with that gun!" commented the Kid on

the parental misses. I certainly was slower than

he, but I was holding accurately enough to have

madeall three of

themkills with the

12-gauge.I

think at 13 yards that we reached the limit of the

28 until the Kid with his faster speed could be-

come considerably more accurate and judgmaticalin his holding, so we decided to change to the 20-

gauge, as we were only three yards from the

coveted sixteen which would let the boy have the

ambition of his life to go down to the gun club

and shoot along side the men at the standard range,

using his twenty-gauge.

But the particular gun that we brought alongsoon showed that it did not fit him at all. The

drop of three inches was far too great, the stock

length was too much to get the butt well in on his

chest, and every shot gave him a jolt on nose or

lip. Presently his lip began to bleed and I could

see that he was flinching from the punishment andmissing them much more than he ought. Now a

boy of his size ought to shoot a 20 almost as well

as a 28, provided that it fitted him. I had at


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THE STANDARD TRAP 91home in the gun cabinet a beauty double 20, a $60

grade Sauer, and it fitted him like a dream, but

was otherwise entirely unsuitable, being much toofine a gun for boys' use and being a double gun,much too dangerous for field shooting. But as he

would need to go to 20 gauge both for standard

trap shooting at 16 yards and for duck shoot-

ing in November, where the 28 would be too

small, I decided to call off the shooting for the

afternoon and take out the beauty twenty for prac-

tice, with one barrel only, the next time we went atthe traps.


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CHAPTER V

THE SWIFT AND SPITEFUL TWENTY GAUGE

THAT the twenty-gauge shotgun can hold its ownin competition with the standard twelve-gauge, the

following table of scores will go to prove :

COMPARATIVE TABLE OF 12 AND 20 GAUGE SCORESCosmopolitan Gun Club, Manila, P. I.

12 GAUGE 50 BIRDSTotal Dead

Thompson 44Squires, R. W 42Vanderf ord 42Carson 39Martin 34Orense 34Beach 33Piatt 29Daniels 29Almeida 29O'Dell 28Bennedict 27

Day 24Stevens 23

Floyd 23Zembovitz 21

Hartpence 21Vanderveer 5

20 GAUGE 50 BIRDS

Squires, C. D 32Perske 28

Hodges 27Sherman 27

92


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THE TWENTY GAUGE 93Hileman 25Carter 24

Armstrong 22

Cisar 20

These were shot for the Field and Stream trophy

cup by the Cosmopolitan gun club of Manila,

Philippine Islands. As there is necessarily a dif-

ference in per cent, between the two classes, the

twelves and twenties were kept separate, but itshows what ordinary fair shots can do with the

twenty-gauge. Experts, of course, can do much

better, many crack shots with the twelve doing 95to 97 per cent, with the twenty. As the little gun

shoots harder inits effective

range, a single pelletfrom it at thirty-five yards will break a pigeon,while one from a twelve at forty will only

' ' dust ' '

it. And, as the swift and spiteful twenty is an ex-

ceedingly fast-handling gun, there is no reason

why a boy, with his quick sight and high strungnervous organisation, should not make better

scores with it than he could hope to make with thetwelve. As an example of being over-gunned, I

myself had recently a striking example. With a

fast, light twelve I had just made a 21 ; taking for

the next squad an excellent but heavy special trap

gun to test for a friend I at once dropped to 12,

although a heavy-built expert who took it in the

next twenty-five did 20 with it the first time.


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94 SHOOTING FOR BOYSWith The Boy, the proposition of joining the

Gun Club boiled down to the fact that if he couldstand the kick of the twenty he could join the

coveted men's squad at the Gun Club. He was al-

ready fast with the twenty-eight, but its effective

range was limited to thirteen yards from the trap,an impossible distance for it would necessitate his

standing three yards in front of the shootingstand. But between ten and thirteen yards from

the- trap his little 28 would" bust" them with great

regularity, and so I now initiated a series of after-noons of practice with the twenty-eight at these

ranges, giving him varying angles and a flock ofmain right and left quarters. Personally I could

do nothing at all with the little gun, not having

anywhere near speed enough, but the boy got to be

as quick as a cat with them, and his snipe work

along the Barnegat dunes this year, with his de-

coys and making his own blinds, was good enoughto please the most fastidious. Getting down to

figures it averaged one to three birds better than

the total number of shells fired, showing what

good trap practice will do for one's field form.

This fall there came up stronger than ever the

question of graduating to the twenty-gauge. Since

these lessons began he had grown seven months

older and heavier, and was already sure of himself


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THE TWENTY GAUGE 95with the twenty-eight. You will recall that the last

experiment with the twenty was a few shots with

an extremely "crooked" gun, one* that had 3yinches drop at the butt and a high comb. While

the shoulder kick was not appreciably heavier than

with the twenty-eight, he was badly punishedabout the face and his lip began to bleed at the

third shot. The shoulderkick,

even if it bothered

him could easily be remedied by lacing on one of

the standard leather and rubber shoulder pads,for sale at any gun store, but there is no cure for a

crooked gun. It must fit, not only for comfort

but to be able to hit anything with it. Many a boyhas struggled along and given himself up as a dub

with the shotgun simply because his gun did not

fit him in the first place. A drop at the heel oftwo to 2% inches is ample, and at the comb itshould be from 1*4 to 1% inches, which you caneasily test for yourself by putting the gun barrel

down on the floor with the butt up and measuringfrom heel and comb to the top line of the barrels,which will be the floor line itself.

In order to let him join the gun club, I could do

two things: lend him my beauty Sauer 20, a $60high grade gun ; or buy him a single shot 20 of the

same make as his 28, with automatic ejector short26 inch-barrel, 2 inch drop at the heel and


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96 SHOOTING FOR BOYSat the comb, 1314 inch length, full choke bored,

weight 5% pounds. Such a gun would cost $6, and

he could neglect it a bit without ruining it, whilethe least scrap of rust anywhere in the works of a

high grade gun puts it off its fit and necessitates a

trip for it to the gunsmith 's. Another thing; myman's-sized twenty, while only 5% pounds weight,is stocked for field work for a man's

frame, 2%inch drop and 14% inch length, and it thereforewould be hard for him to shoot. However, as the

right length is not as essential for trapshooting

as it is in field work (because at the traps your gunis already at shoulder when you call "Pull!"), I

decided to try him out on a few lessons with myfine twenty before going any further.

We bought a box of shells and started in at tenyards. This time he did much better, partly be-cause of the extra practice with the 28, and partlybecause my 20 was a short brush gun with 26 inchbarrels and he could swing it quite as fast as his

own 28 which has the same length and weight.There was still some face punishment however,due to the big drop as it made him get his face

right down behind the breech to aim properly.This I corrected by having him raise his face and

compensate by taking the birds a little below, but

it was only a makeshift, for your cheek bone is


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THE TWENTY GAUGE 97your real rear sight and the gun should be cheeked

tight every time, leaving you nothing to worry

about but finding that bird with the front sight.Soon he got to hitting them around sixty per

cent, and I moved him back to the standard sixteen

yard distance and began with straightaways and

easy right and left quarters. He dropped downat

once to thirty per cent., but even thatis

fair forthe standard sixteen yard distance. How manymen with a twelve gauge, or boys fifteen and overfor that matter, do better than that on the start?

The principal difference however was that The

Boy did not stay at this per cent, long; all that

previous practice with his 28 stood him in goodstead now, and as soon as he got the hang of it

and began to pick up speed his per cent. rose.

Then I began to tighten up the spring on the trapand speed up the birds. I set a goal of fifty percent, average with the twenty, with a new "Nitro

special" of that gauge and an entrance to the GunClub as reward. It does not take long to tell howwe struggled through to that goal, but it actuallytook a good many afternoons to really do it, for

there is a lot to "hitting the clays" and under notwo weather conditions do they fly alike. I have

seen a whole squad of cracks undershooting all

their birds simply because a strong breeze was


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blowing directly towards the traps and the pigeonswere soaring instead of dropping in their usual

curve. I missed my first five straight on that oc-casion before I tumbled to the fact that the usual

aim, seeing the bird a little over the sights, would

not do, and on that particular day you had to cover

them as you pulled trigger.All this The

Boyhad to

pick up day by daywhile learning to point the twenty and swing it

as fast and accurately as he used to his 28. Oncold windy days he would get slow, and as we had

both a standard fixed trap and a hand trap we

got them both to work and he had to be quick with

the first bird or lose them both. If he was missing

quartering birds it was a sign of a falling off in

gun swinging and I would have him go around to

one side of the trap until the birds were flying

nearly across his face. It is easy to put in these

variations to correct especial faults with your owntrap : it is impossible to do them at the club stand

where the birds are sent away at all angles and

there is no chance to hammer away at any par-ticular weak point until it is cured. It is not too

much to say that, unless a boy has particular apti-tude for wing shooting, he will be a long time get-

ting ahead at the club trap in a regular squad, and


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THE TWENTY GAUGE 99will spend enough on shells to pay for a trap be-

fore he arrives at proficiency. Even to own a

cheap ping-pong trap, firing it from a pit or be-

hind a screen is much better than starting in

blindly at the standard trap game. I was over a

year in correcting a tendency to miss left quarter-

ing birds, simply because I had no chance to ham-

mer away at the fault until discovered. You geta left quarter about every fifth bird, sometimes

two of them in a row, always more or less unex-

pected, and as I was strongly right-handed I was

always too slow and inaccurate in swinging on

them,until

I had a chanceto correct it

by bangingaway at fifty of them in a string.

All this practice meant considerable cartridge

expense, more than any boy's pocketbook can rea-

sonably be expected to take care of. I considered

it unfair to let that expense come on The Boy, as

the accomplishment of wing shooting lasts a life-

time, like swimming or skating, and ought to be

paid for out of the parental exchequer just as are

music lessons for the girl of the family. But as

a boy's time is not excessively valuable there is

one way in which he can help father out on the ex-

pense a great deal, and that is by reloading his

own shells. Any reasonably steady boy of twelve


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100 SHOOTING FOR BOYSor over can be entrusted with the job, providedthat some older person sees that there are no fires,

cigarettes or matches in the room where the re-

loading is being done. The twenty-gauge shell

takes 2 drams of bulk smokeless, then a thick wadof soft felt, one thick one being better than two

thinner ones of the same total thickness because

often the latter capsize in the gun barrel lettingthe gases get by the wad when their propellingforce upon the shot is lost. You can note thisoften at the traps whenever you see a wad spin-ning out on its edge and falling a considerable

distanceaway

unmutilated. After thepowder

wad, comes % of an ounce of No. 7% chilled shot, athin cardboard shot wad, and the shell is crimpedin the crimping machine. Cost of reloading about

three-quarters of a cent each, whereas loaded

shells cost around sixty cents a box of 25 in twenty

gauge. Most modern paper shells are good for

at least two reloadings. You can tell when a shell

is getting too old by the black powder rim that

begins to show on the paper above the brass base

of the shell. We boys, when we were fourteenand fifteen years old and had graduated to twelve-

gauge double shotguns, used to get all our shells,

powder wads and shot wads for nothing by goingaround to the gun club grounds after each shoot


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THE TWENTY GAUGE 101and picking up the discarded cartridges at the

stands, looking around in the grass some fifteen

yards in front of the stand for powder wads, whichwere to be had in quantities and in good condi-

tion, and a little farther on we found the shot wads.

Our only expense for ammunition was then prim-ers, powder and shot. With primers at 35 cents a

box of 250, powder at 65 cents a pound can, andshot at eight cents a pound, we could always find

ourselves in ammunition enough for field shoot-

ing, though never enough for trap shooting unless

it was with the home trap. A reloading set costsabout a dollar and should

comprisea

crimper, cap-per, decapper and rammer, powder and shot meas-

ure and funnel. A reloading bee where two orthree fellows get together of an evening after a

good day's shoot is always great fun; there is no

better way to put in the time, for a bunch of goodfellows who love shooting and guns.By the time The Boy showed a fair fifty per cent,

general average on those occasions when he took

an examination so to speak with the twenty after

steady practice with the twenty-eight, I felt bold

enough to present him at the gun club and ask themen to let him join a squad next to me. Mean-while the quail season had come on and there was

a good deal of upland and brush shooting for him


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102 SHOOTING FOR BOYSwith the twenty-eight. What he learned aboutthe ways of quail and how he got started at regu-lar trap practice at the gun club will be told in

our next.


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CHAPTER VI

THE FIRST DAY AT THE GUN CLUB

AT last the great day arrived, The Boy's firstshoot at the Gun Club ! Our club has two Leggetttraps, in trap houses set on piles out over the

ocean, and the city board walk runs right behind

the trap stand so that there is always a large and

interested audience when shooting is going on.The Club has two hundred and fifty members, so

that if there is much of a turnout both traps arein use, the south trap for experts shooting in runs

of 25 birds, the north trap for beginners and prac-tice

work,their shoots

being usuallyof ten

andfifteen birds. The Kid and I each had a box of

twenty-five shells, and he had elected to start in

with his favourite old 28-gauge, the gun that getsmeat for him every time in shorebird shooting.This year at Barnegat he had turned in more birds

than shells, because of several neat doubles madewith the single gun.

I have outlined the preliminary practice that

he went through before venturing down to the


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FIRST DAY AT THE GUN CLUB 105with the gun still broken, and waited while No. 1

fired.

"Now, then, Kid, take it easy and close your

gun when No. 2 fires ; now cock it and lay it care-

fully over the centre of the trap house, for No. 3

is firing and your turn is next now !'

"Pull!" rang out the clear, treble voice. The

bird rose, and Pank! went the little 28 before it

had hardly begun to soar. The Kid was certainly

going fast after them with a vengeance.* ' Lost ! ' '

wailed the scorer.

"Too fast, boy; you're almost snapping them in

your anxiety to be quick.' '

But there was no hold-ing back the Kid ; he kept worrying about that 44

yards and wanted to get them if possible inside 35

yards anyhow, so his next turn was a snap almost

as fast as the other and a lost bird also. Wemoved to No. 5

position,for in ten-bird shoots two

birds are fired at at each of the five positions.

"Now, kid, this is going to be a mean place; if

you get a right quarter you'll have to lead him a

mile and for heaven 's sake, take your time !" He

got the mean ones all right ; one right quarter and

one straight away; which at this position is very

hard as you have to lead it somewhat, too.

Missed them both.

"Now it is time to move to No. 1 position," I


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106 SHOOTING FOR BOYSadmonished ;

' l

carry your gun empty and open, so

that every one can see that it is empty, holding it

vertically in front of you, muzzle up. Hurry, now,

with your shell and close your gun for your turn

is coming immediately," I added, as we got to No.

1 at the left end of the line. Now the Kid sloweddown a whole lot ; too poky at first, for he missed

both birds at No. 1, but when he got to No. 2 andthe shooting got easier (for the birds from there

do not get away at such terrible angles) he broke

his first one. Clean in two, and my ! what an en-

couragement! The next he struck with a single

pellet and wabbled it, so it could not be scored, butthe Kid was just as pleased for now he was

"get-

ting them." At No. 3 he was in the central and

easiest position; dusted one and lost the other, a

hard right quarter, which bird always bothers him,the Kid being left handed. This ended the first

shoot, and the scorer had only one tally to show,but we checked it up as three hits in our minds, for

even a dusted target ought to score with such a

small gun as a 28. I shot in the next squad with

a 20-gauge double brush gun and only got two out

of ten with it although I can usually account for

7 or 8 out of ten with the twelve-gauge. Holding

high and holding low I spent a number of shots in

finding out just where the gun placed its target


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FIRST DAY AT THE GUN CLUB 107before I was sure that you had to hold it a gooddeal lower than with a standard trap gun to getthem. Even easy straightaways that were "sure

dead" with the twelve, soared away unharmed

principally, I believe, because I shot too deliber-

ately. One of our fast men took the same gunlater and did six out of ten with it.

The Kid next entered a fifteen-bird squad draw-ing No. 1 position. I stood back of him coachingas before. Before we went out to the stand I gavehim a ' ' once-over ' ' on trap etiquette :

* ' Put those

fifteen shells in your right pocket, son, so that you

will not have to fumble and search for any ofthem

; never delay the squad firing on any pretext

whatever; put in your shell and leave the gun

open just as soon as you have fired and ejected the

empty; close it and cock it when the second manahead of

youhas

fired; lay your pieceand hold

over the centre of the trap house while the mannext you is firing; take a last look over the gunand see that it is held straight, not tilted to one

side, that it is cheeked correctly so that yourbreech and front sight are in central alignment,

open both eyes, look at the trap house and call

'PullI'"

This time, after missing all three of the birds at

No. 1, the Kid got right after them and shot in


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108 SHOOTING FOR BOYSexcellent time, smashing two and dusting one at

No. 2 ; smashing another at No. 3 and dusting the

other two; getting a smashing right-quarter and

breaking up a straightaway at No. 4 and missingall three at No. 5. The scorer then had a tally of

four broken birds to show at the end of the shoot,and mentally we made it seven out of fifteen, count-

ing in the three dusted and wabbled birds as struckwith at least one pellet. The Kid was much elated

over his first go at the regular game, for many aman with the twelve-gauge does not show nearly aswell his first time. And then a heavy hand was

laid on his shoulder and a deep, kindlyvoice

said,

"Kid, you did first class with that little popgun;come down again and shoot some more you'llmake a trapshooter all right !" It was the Presi-

dent of the club who had been shooting alongsideof him in the fifteen-squad.And so the Kid walked home on air and clouds,

cleaned his pet gun, fed the dogs and vowed that

he'd get down every Saturday and have some more

of that good sport you bet !

But now the brown October days were filling the

forests with scarlet and gold, the corn sheafs stood

like regiments in the fields, and the game laws

opened up on quail and rabbit. Setter and hound

had been chafing at the delay ever since the Sep-


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FIRST DAY AT THE GUN CLUB 109tember frosts set in, and now they galloped outwith us into the hunting fields. Quail keep to-

gether in coveys of a dozen to twenty-five birds,

and the places to look for them are in the corn

fields, the brown pea weeds around the edges of

old truck patches, and berry and briar patcheswhere the seeds of overlooked berries have dried

out and fallen to the ground to be scratched forby hungry quail. The Kid with his 28 and I with

the twelve spent our Saturdays in long tramps into

the back country, with Scout, the setter, quarter-

ing the ground ahead while Pepper, the hound,worked

upold rabbit trails in the thickets and

woods nearby.

Presently Scout comes to a point. His bodystiffens and his spine trembles with eagerness."Now then, Kid, they're right ahead ; you take thisposition right behind the dog, for at least one

quail will fly directly away from him, giving youa dead easy straightaway shot!"

We creep forward as though treading on eggs,guns just below shoulder at a ready. Suddenly,Brrrrrr! up jump a dozen swift, brown bullets,

Pop! goes the 28 and Blam-Blam! roars thetwelve. "Three down; steady, Scout. Mark!

there they settle over by that weedy ditch. Fetch

dead bird, Scout!" and the faithful setter noses


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110 SHOOTING FOR BOYSout and brings us, mealy-mouthed, the three brown

beauties. "Nice clean kill, Kid," I comment.

We walk over toward the ditch and again Scoutpoints.

"Ready, boy!" We edge forward, trailing theright foot on the ground, for if that foot is in mid-

step when they rise, you lose the instant required

to put it down again and take firing position, prob-ably losing the bird also. "Where are they, any-way?" For a creep of twenty feet raises nothing.Scout makes a short dash ahead and again stands

rigid. "They're reading; come on, along the

ditch!' We work up much faster, and this is toomuch for the scattered covey who rise like a thun-derbolt here and there and head for the woods.

Bang-bang! Pank! "Missed that fellow clean,

Kid, he caught you with that foot off your guard.Reload now, and we '11 follow them into that thicket

over yon.'

"Pep's got a rabbit, father; hear him yip and

bay." Pepper certainly was making the woods

ring, and we ran over to the catbriers at the edgeof the woods, for the rabbit would certainly cir-

cle, and might run out into the field if he did not

make for these briers. The chase worked around

our way, punctuated with the yelps of the eager


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FIRST DAY AT THE GUN CLUB 111hound. " There he goes! Bun up that log road,Kid, and you'll get a shot; aim high; lead him a

mile and take him at the top of his jump.' '

Babbit is not easy to hit, but one pellet of tens

will settle him if you land it. Often you must fire

from the hip, and never is there a chance for a de-

cent aim, lead what you can see about a yard.

Borp!

rangout the 28 under the wood aisles, and

"I got him! Le'go, Pep; you houn' dawg! Git

away f 'm here !" shrilled a treble voice. The Kid

was full of excitement and talking a triumphant

string of adjectives as he came down the road,

dangling a long furry cottontail, while Pep jumpedall around him. We then started across the fieldsfor the thicket where we marked down the quail,and in an old turnip patch Pep struck another rab-

bit trail, gave tongue and was off.

"Let him go; we'll attend to birds for the pres-

ent; hang that rabbit to your belt, Kid." Scouthad no use for rabbits; he knew that to followthem meant a licking so he was broken, "rabbit-

proof" as the dog men say. He galloped acrossand across the field ahead of us and presently

made game.' ' A single, by George ! Easy, now, he *s frozen. ' '

Scout lay down with his head canted rigidly


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upon a tuft of weed. "Hiding in there, by

jingo! Now give him time, Kid, or you'll blowhim all to pieces/' We walked forward until al-most on top of the hiding quail. I made a kick

and Brrrrr ! away he went low down and straightas an arrow. The Kid let him get twenty yards

away and then bowled him over as if struck in

the head with a brick. Scout had him to bag in onejump.

"Lone bird, I reckon; here we come to the

thicket. "

But the covey had either flown farther or had

runthrough

the leaves andgot

into theswamp,

for Scout failed to make any game. We kept on,up into a little, moist leaf-strewn ravine and here

the dog came to a shivering point. "Gee! he's

excited this time, Pop. What is it?""Don't know; easy ahead, now." Suddenly

Weet-weet-weet-weet ! ! a swift flash of wings up

through the bare branches, and both guns spoke.

Two birds fell; "Woodcock! by all that's holy!Kid, you've killed your first woodcock! shake!"

We picked them up and called it a day. Fivequail, two woodcock, and a rabbit; enough for a

game supper, and outside of big-game hunting and

wildfowling, there is no better sport. Which is

only another way of saying that, no matter what


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FIRST DAY AT THE GUN CLUB 113

you hunt in those grand months of the year when

the Hunter's Moon is shining you will have a thrill

and a zest in following dog and gun that no man-made game can begin to approximate.


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CHAPTER VII

A DAY IN" THE UPLANDS

THE BOY did not oftengo down

to thegun

club

with his 28 in the fall months, in fact the gun clubitself put up its shutters temporarily, for the

royal month of November was in full swing and

every member was off shooting. One or two triesat ten and fifteen birds at the standard trap rangeswith the 28-gauge shooting tens chilled, resulted in

too many "dusted" birds to be encouraging. Wecould see the clay saucers jump and hop as the

shot struck them, but only a few broke so as to

enable the scorers to mark them up as "Dead!"

And the brown uplands, the brown marshes withtheir wastes of gray waters were calling, callingfor The Boy to come out afield and try the 28 onrabbits and ducks.

We decided to let the traps alone for the presentand come back when the tournament season shouldbegin again with the big Thanksgiving shoot.

One bright clear Saturday, early in November,the Boy and I rose before dawn, piled into an auto

114


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A DAY IN THE UPLANDS 115

already crammed with sportsmen and dogs, and

the whole works buzzed off into the back country

with the freezing wind whistling about our ears.

An old barn near a great rabbit and pheasantswamp was our objective, a

" swamp" in that

country meaning a dense thicket of brush and tim-

ber intersected with numerous streams. Three

men, the Boy, three beagle hounds, one fox hound

and three "pocket" hounds tumbled out of that

automobile and we all jointed up our shotguns.It was great country to hunt in; tall brown weeds

choked the fields and tangles of thicket jutted out

here and there wherever a little rill worked out ofthe fields into the woods. We formed in a longline, with the dogs snuffing and quartering the

ground in advance. The first shot roared out

within ten minutes of the time when we entered

the first thicket.It

was Charlie,on our extreme

left, who had put up a fine cock pheasant in a dense

catbrier thicket. A beautiful shot, snapped fromthe hip ; and as handsome a bird as you ever laid

eyes on. These are State-planted English pheas-

ants, a lot being liberated every year so that there

are a few of them to be found in almost every big

tangle of brush of four or five square miles in area.

Suddenly, over in our centre, one of the "pocket'

hounds let out a yip, and immediately Brownie


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116 SHOOTING FOR BOYSand Spot, the beagles, joined in, and then came

Pepper, the foxhound's deep bay. Then Spank!went the twenty-eight from the depths of the

thicket, and the Boy's clear yell, "Missed him

by gorry ! He 's a big fellow and going like sin !' '

"Run, everybody! out for positions on the

road! You come out here, Kid, and stand where

you can command the edges of this field, for hewill surely circle back and you'll get a shot."

The rest ran out on the main road and strungout a hundred yards apart, while I tore up a back-

woods road on the chance that the chase would

head that way. Things were lively enough in thethicket; the continuous yips of the small hounds,

the screaming yelps of the beagles, and the con-

stant baying of Pep told that the rabbit was in

sight ahead of them. Hither and yon it circled

and doubled.Presently

there was a faint rustle

in the brush near my position and a large rabbit

hopped out, saw me, put on a raft of power and

beat it into the brush. But the old Parker barked

out and rolled him over and over the deadest rab-

bit since Lazarus' time! Along came the hounds

in full cry, following every double and sidestep un-

til they ran right over the spot where I had pickedthe rabbit up, proving that he was the one that

had made all the trouble.


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*

PEPPER AND TI1K KID STARTING FOK A RABBIT HUNTNote: Pepper's tail is not clocked; he has only wagged it out of thepicture.

OUR BEAGLES AND SOME RABBITS


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154/362

A DAY IN THE UPLANDS 117Into the swamp again, everybody ; twisting and

turning and dodging briers and crawling under

and through alders, always with the gun at readyfor any moment a sudden roar of wings would de-

note a flushed grouse or pheasant, or a bobbing of

white tail would tell of Molly Cottontail on the

move. Then, off somewhere in the bushes, a lit-

tle pocket hound Beauty it was squeaked, andthen her mates, Punch and Judy, took it up. Pephad been snuffing among the leaves near me ; nowhe whined approval and was off on the jump for

the spot. Then a ripping, tearing bray told that

Spottyhad taken the trail and another rabbit had

been started for the stewpot. This time the Boyout in the field was the lucky man. Bunny came

tearing out, looking neither to right nor left, with

the eager dogs not fifty yards behind him, and the

Boy put his sights well over him and pulled trig-ger, bowling him over neatly.We now crossed over into a great ravine, full of

tall timber and not much clogged with underbrush.The brown, fragrant, autumn leaves crackled

crisply under foot, the keen Northwest wind sangoverhead and it was good to be alive and afield with

dog and gun! The hounds threaded their waythrough the forest, snuffling tracks in the leaves.

We worked up a big ridge and down into a ravine


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grown up with catbrier at its head. "Now, look

out, kid, this is a likely place and we ought to start

something/' I admonished. "Cock your gun, butdon't forget to uncock it again when we get into

less likely country."

1 ' There he goes !' '

yelled Frank, and Bang ! went

his Winchester pump. "Got him ! Look out, you

fellows, there 's another coming down your way !'

The dogs all went wild at the gun report and

rushed to the scene of the kill, and Frank soon had

them on the fresh scent of the other cottontail.

Down they all tore through the timber, but thatold fellow was too

foxyand made

goodhis

escapeby a side jump and a double. Then, from out the

field at the head of the ravine, came the unmistak-

able pop! of the 28-gauge. "What did you get,Kid!" I yelled.

"Quail!" chirped the treble voice. "Come outhere quick, there's a bevy of them!" We allclimbed out of the ravine. "Oh, pop, he was a

dandy shot!" crowed the Kid, holding up the

quail.* ' Got up out of the grass by that old grape

vine and I knocked him just as easy!'

"Where did you mark the rest down, son he'sa nice one, fat and full feathered

"

1 1

They lit over in that field beyond those chicken

sheds, Father."


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A DAY IN THE UPLANDS 119

"Well, let's get them up before the hounds getback and flush them ; we sure ought to have brought

Scout, the setter.' '

We formed in a line beyond the abandonedchicken sheds and swept up the field. Then, over

on the right near the woods. Brrrrr ! ! up got the

covey and Blam-blam-bluie-bluie ! ensued. The

Boy and Charlie on the right did the honors witha single and a double ; the rest of us were too far

away to do anything but mark down. I spied two,

making off through some green tops of small pitch

pines, and was off after them with gun at a ready.

The going was uphill, with the viewfiner

andfiner

at every step, but just then I could spare no eyes

for anything but quail, for without a dog they get

up so unexpectedly as to make a hit in the brush

a hard matter. The first one waited until I was

within four feet of him and then jumped and

whirled right past me downhill, so that I had toturn completely around to get a shot, as, when cir-

cling so near me, to shoot would either be to miss

entirely or to blow him to mincemeat. By the timethe gun was following him he had gotten throughthe pine tops again and I scored a miss anyhow.I met the Boy coming up with his second quail."He went right down into that valley in the woods,pop,

" said he. "Let's go get him,"


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120 SHOOTING FOR BOYS"This is going to be some hard stuff, Kid, and

I want you to take a try at it. Any one who can

get his quail in thick brush is some shot, as the lit-

tle rascals are quicker than a grouse to put a tree

between you and them. You take the lead and tryyour hand.

' '

We worked our way down into the leaf-strewnvalley. Oh, for Scout and his infallible nose!

"Careful, now; he pitched down about here andwill not move far at first. Easy, now ; keep yourright foot on the ground and trail it, for he 's likelyto jump any minute there he goes!" The Kid

flashed his twenty-eight to shoulder but the quailhad dodged as quickly, and he scored a miss, while

I got no chance at all at him until he was sixty

yards off and going like the wind through the tree

trunks. l f Better fire and miss than not fire at all,' '

as the old saying is, so I reached out for him with

the full-choked left, but did not draw a feather.

"Well; he's earned his liberty, Kid; hear the

row the dogs are making over there to the north.

I'll bet that catbrier swamp is plumb full of rab-

bits!"

We hastened over through the woods, the yellsand squeals becoming more complex every minute.

"Pop, they've got a dozen in there!" exulted the

Boy, changing his load from tens to 7%'s as he


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A DAY IN THE UPLANDS 121ran. We ripped through a tangle of briers ashigh as your head and started a rabbit on our

own hook ! The Kid got him, firing from the hipas he bobbed underneath the briers. But all the

dogs were barking stationary, and when we gotthere Frank and Charlie were forming a mining

company limited, with a crooked pole, all three"pocket

"hounds were completely out of sight in

the earth their barks coming up like muffled throbs

from below ground. Brownie, Pepper and Spottywere digging like mad, and a rank musky odour

came out of the hole. The lair was under the roots

of ahuge

overturnedstump,

a monarch of the for-

est that had once dominated this gully and whose

removal had caused the growth of catbrier brush

and the thicket of saplings." 'Coon or 'possum or I'm a Jew!" I pro-

nounced, sniffing the hole. "We'll have to smoke

him out." If 'coon, the dogs had evidently caughtthis fellow out late away from his tree, for they

usually leave the swamps for the forest fastnesses

very early in the morning. If 'possum, it was

doubtless his regular lair. The first thing to do

was to get those pocket hounds out and leashed up.Built like a miniature beagle, the peculiar excel-

lence of these little dogs is their wonderful nose,

their ability to get through brush and briers that


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122 SHOOTING FOR BOYSno beagle or foxhound would care to tackle, excepton extremely hot scent, and their ability to work

into almost any ground hole. Beauty, Punch and

Judy were all up in the bowels of the earth some-

where, burrowing and barking like mad, and to

get them out seemed hopeless. However, each

was negotiated* at arm's length by his own tail,

and soon we had a smudge going, while a ring ofdogs, men and the Boy awaited results. It did nottake long; suddenly out of the hole burst a grey

furry streak, followed a jump or so behind by allthe frantic hounds. Then he turned and fought

them, screamingand

biting savagely,his

high,shrill squall rising above the babel of hound voices.

But the dogs killed him in less than fifteen sec-

onds, old Pep getting a throat-hold and shakingthe life out of him

; a smallish raccoon of about 5

pounds weight, but constituting the best trophy of

the day, so far, besides the cock pheasant. Weforesaw a roast 'coon supper for the crowd, and

the pelt was voted to make a hanger in the Boy'sden.

After this we went back to the barn for lunch,

and the fry-pan, bacon, hot coffee in thermos bot-

tles, cakes, sandwiches and apples made a welcomefeed. "Now, who's my friend when lunch timecomes?" chirped Charlie the Quick, when the


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A DAY IN THE UPLANDS 123hounds crowded around him for tidbits and scraps.It is not well to feed them but a tiny bit until

the day's hunt is over, for each dog will promptlycurl up and go to sleep until he has digested the

meal.

We next piled into the auto and ran for anotherfamous swamp, where there were pheasants and

rabbits and a fewgrouse

known to be. Itlay

two

miles inland from where we were, and was in the

shape of a triangle a mile on edge, with a wood

road, a sand barren and a cabbage and brier patchon the three sides. Here we put in the dogs. Thedense huckleberry brush made the going under the

pines and oaks nearly impossible, but if you

fought your way through with ready gun youmight be rewarded with a ruffed grouse. Another

very good place for them was the wood road men-

tioned before;all grouse love the old lumber roads

because they find here spots to dust in and be-

cause there is there a sparse growth of forest

grass, occasionally some oats sprung up from an-

cient droppings of oat feed by the lumber horses.

The Boy and I decided to try the old road, leaving

Charlie and Frank to guard the cabbage patch andsand hills. The dogs hadn't started a rabbit yet,nor had any thunder of wings told of their flush-

ing a grouse. We followed the old road under the


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pines. The last wheel-marks made here were bur-

ied deep in pine needles and dead oak leaves, while

scanty growths of huckleberries had already

gained a foothold, and among these I peered sharp-

eyed for the brown neck and dark ruff or collar of

the grouse.

"There's one, Kid! Just crossed the road-

went into those bushes at the left !' '

"Where! where !" exclaimed the Boy breath-

lessly.* ' I didn 't see a thing.

' '

"Have to have an eye like a hawk for game to

get your share of it, these days," said I grimly."Now start in

bythat bush and work

upwith

yourgun just below shoulder, for he'll jump like aflash." Suddenly with a roar ten times louder

and more startling than that made by any quail,the grouse flushed, and instantly rang out the

crack of the Kid's ready 28. I caught a glimpseof a large brown bird, sailing through the trees

with fast-fluttering wings, and laughed."Missed him oh, I'm a dub!" wailed the Boy.

"And he looked easy, too, the way he got up.""You hit him, all right ; I can tell by the way he

flew what did you have in?"

"Eights or 7%'s, for rabbits, I'm not sure

which."1 1 Those boys will fly with eights in them as long


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'' '" l


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A DAY IN THE UPLANDS 125as they can move a wing. We'll look for him; I

marked where he went down/'

We followed the course of the grouse when lastseen, down into a choked and tangled huckleberryswamp, both guns at full ready for either a fresh

flush if not hit or an expiring flutter if alreadywounded. Across this we waded and fought, and

thence into a dry pine slope where presently aquivering that attracted us in the leaves disclosed

the Boy's first grouse."The best prize of the day !" exclaimed the Kid,

holding it up proudly. "Gee, pop! I'm going to

mount himmyself.

Sometrophy

for theden,

eh !

My first grouse!"Charlie and Frank each got a rabbit out of that

swamp after a long afternoon's work by all the

dogs, for it was almost impossible to be at the spotwhere Molly came out at just the right time to be

ahead of the hounds, in trying to guard such a bigfront with only four of us. At no time did fortune

favour the Boy and myself but the eager music ofthe dogs as they followed the screaming scent upand down and around the big triangle was fun to

hear. But we were content, when about fouro'clock the sun went down and we whirled back

home in the calm of a November evening. And

just such a hunt as I have described, the kind that


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126 SHOOTING FOR BOYSwe take, with variations, every Saturday duringthe hunting season, is entirely possible to any set

of boys in almost any part of our country where

the game is reasonably protected.

But, as the whisper of" Ducks at Barnegat!"

began to grow louder the later it got in November,we decided to go down there for a camp and a duck

shoot after the next big northeast storm; and sothe Boy went down to the traps to practise with

7%'s in his 28-gauge shells, for 6's would be the

smallest shot permissible with ducks and he would

have now mighty few pellets to rely on and mustsend

them straightindeed.


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CHAPTER VIII

SHOKE BIRD SHOOTING

"MARK south, papa!"

Everyone froze in the

blind,for when the Kid

called "Mark!" it always meant that his brightblue eyes had seen game coming. Eigidly we

crouched in our circle of sage, not daring to move

a muscle, looking cornerwise out through every

vista available while thrills of anticipation raced

through our nerves. Up, out of the south, they

came, suddenly being visible in the vast greenness

of the marsh, a shimmering of white underwingsand a wheel of grey pinions as they circled the de-

coys down-wind. The safeties clicked and I heard

the hammer sear of the Kid's 28-gauge clink homeas every bird cupped his wings and hovered over

the stools.

"Now!" gritted Walter through his teeth.Crack! spoke the little 28, and Blam-~blam! Bluie-

bluie-bluie! roared the double and the pump.Birds crumpled and fell right and left as the flock

flashed into lightning action, bursting in every di-

rection like a feathered bombshell.

127


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128 SHOOTING FOR BOYS"Down! Every one!" barked Walter, grab-

bing the Kid's shoulder and forcing him to earth

as he fumbled for the bone snipe whistle danglingat his neck. We crouched motionless while theshrill Dzree-u-ee! of the black-bellied plover call

floated out over the marsh. But the flock would

have none of us, and would not return for any

snipe calls,however seductive.

"Seven down!" called Walter, wading out to

pick them up.' l

Say, these are the queerest black-

bellies I ever saw! One-year birds, maybe; I

dunno." He brought in the bunch of large blackand white plover, their wings dangling all awry,and tossed them on the tarpaulin floor-cloth of the

blind.

"Where's the hind toe?" I demanded, examin-

ing the legs of one of them. "Black-bellied

plover, nothinM these are young Golden Plover,

man! Glory be! the first I've seen on these

marshes in many a weary year!"Walter grunted incredulously."In the first place, the herring-bone on their

backs is too yellow for black-bellies, even first-year

birds," I argued. "In the second place, whereare your black feathers under the wings nearest

the body? And, in the third place, the hind toe

is wanting, and that settles it 1"


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SHORE BIRD SHOOTING 129' ' I believe you, my boy ! ' ' said Walter with ris-

ing exultation in his voice. "Who says the gameis not coming back! This is only the third yearof that no-sale-of-game law that you fellows put

through, but I tell you I never saw such an in-

crease in all kinds of snipe, duck, and geese in this

bay as has come this year and last. Those are the

first golden plover that I've seen in let's see

well, sixteen years anyway.'

We three were out for a shore bird cruise aweek's end from Friday to Tuesday, in September

shooting snipe on the marshes, fishing the hole

at Jones' Inlet for big tide-runner weakfish thekind that run six to eight pounds and tacklingthe surf at night for kingfish and blues.

This morning we lay in the balmy sunlight with

a comfortable black oilcloth spread under us on

the marsh andnothing

to do but talk andkeep

a

bright lookout through the interstices of the blind

for passing flocks over the rim of the far horizon,

shimmering green and lovely in the mild heat of

autumn. Every fifteen or twenty minutes the

tense call, "Mark southeast!" would arrest allmovement and send one's fingers sliding ever so

gently along the tang of the shotgun to where the

knurled ridge of the safety jutted up. Millions of

peeps and sanderlings hovered about or played


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among our decoys unmolested, and now and thena flock of big birds would visit us ; one time three

incoming willet, that flew high overhead, present-

ing the hardest kind of a shot ; another time half

a dozen summer yellowlegs, who wheeled in to ourcheerful hu-hu-hu's; again, a couple of creakers,

who flashed in unperceived until right over the

blind, and then were handily picked out of the air

by a left quartering double made by the writer,and causing him a four-inch expansion of chest

measure !

But these golden plover were "something else

again,"

the finest eating and rarest of all plover inthe East, arid there seemed to be quite a few of

them using here and there in the marsh. When

you realise that that marsh is some twenty miles

long and ten wide, it meant that our chances of

beingvisited were so infrequent as to cause a

bright lookout for the least sign of a fluttering

wing on the horizon and a sharp ear for the faint-

est suspicion of a snipe call floating over the

marsh.

The morning wore on with varying thrills and

now and then a long sunny spell with nothing to dobut loll in the blind and enjoy the salt tang of the

southeast breeze blowing in from the open ocean.

Finally Walter went out of the blind fatal mis-


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132 SHOOTING FOR BOYSuntil they were fairly among our wooden effigies,and one of them even pecked peevishly at a tooth-

pick bill.

"Keady, Bo," called Walter out of his left ear.

"Let the Kid fire first, and you take those two on

your end Now ! '

Like a flash the Kid was on his knees, and

Spank! went the 28, dropping the bird nearest,while Walter and I crashed into the main flock.

Five crumpled up, while Walter knocked over an-

other as the flock was whirling out of range, pass-

ing him up-wind, as is their invariable instinct.' ' Fine

teamwork,old

top!

Eh,what ! ' ' I called

as Walter waded out to gather in the slain. "Six

down, or I'm a Jew!'

"Wait till they've hung a day or so and I get a

chance to make you a beccassine a la risotto out of

them," grinned Walter, stumbling in with the dan-

gling birds. "You'll wish the whole earth was

plover and you had to eat your way from the cen-

tre out!"

Back in the blind again, while quiet settled over

the whole vast marsh, with its thousand ponds

basking placidly in the sunlight. Now and thenthe querulous call of a gull would raise all the

heads in the hide expectantly, only to drop again

when a glance at the wing motion assured us it was


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f

SNII'E DECOYS SET OUTThey should go 18 yards from the hide to the farthest snipe, shouldface up-wind and not be bunched too much.


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SHORE BIRD SHOOTING 133not a willet. Walter sniffed the air uneasily.* '

Man,' '

said he at length,' l

I've never yet seen con-ditions so exactly right to fish the Hole as theyare this morning. The tide is just starting to ebb

and the wind is making up strong out of the south-

east. The birds are about done for the day, so

what do you say to an hour's fishing the Hole and

then get grub for"

"Mark southwest!" thus the humble historianof these events, who owns the longest ears on anyanimal save a donkey, and had heard the liquidnotes of a tattler or greater yellowlegs abroad in

the marsh while listening to the above exhortation

with the other ear. Now a quick flash of wings onthe far horizon caught our eyes and everybodycrouched.

"He's at least a mile off, but I'll try calling

him," muttered Walter, raising the bone whistleto his lips. Hu-hu-hu-hu! drooled the call, and

presently the answer sounded, nearer, and we sawthe foolish bird, still nearly a mile away, turn

from his course and rush to his doom to the tune

of our seductive blandishments. Walter re-doubled his efforts. "Wouldn't sell this old pipefor a million," he ejaculated between calls ; "madeher myself, and the tone is just right. Here he

comes down! !"


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134. SHOOTING FOR BOYSThe big fellow cupped his wings and craned his

long neck down over the decoys. "Tsearp!'chirped Walter, coaxingly.

* ' Come on in, the f eed-in's fine!"

But either the Kid or I must have wiggled a fin

or flickered an eyelash, for suddenly, with a sus-

picious swoop, the big bird put on a raft of power

and whirled by us like an express train." Shoot!" barked Walter. I blundered to my

knees, fumbled the gun to my shoulder, took along, careful aim, and scored a clean miss !

' l

Je-ftos-o-phat !"

exploded Walter, "but you

were slower than running mo-lasses with thatbird ! You hung over that aim so long I thoughtyou would finally decide to take it home with youand petrify the pose for a keepsake !

v

"I wanted to make sure of him," answered I

meekly enough.l ' He

certainlywent

bylike a bat

out of well, let's go fish the Hole !"

For answer Walter waded out and gathered upthe decoys, stepping over his boot-tops in a hid-

den marsh hole and adding much to the hilarityof the occasion thereby. I picked up the slain

five golden plover, seven blackbellies, two creakers,

seven yellowlegs, one willet and put them and the

shells in the tarp, while Walter and the Kid fol-

lowed me to the boat with armfuls of decoys and


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SHORE BIRD SHOOTING 135

guns. We apprehended the duckboat and pushedoff to the Ladybird. There was a strong sea on,

rolling up Jones' Inlet, and I foresaw squallsahead for the Kid, who was addicted to seasick-ness.

The guns were laid on the cabin roof, so as to be

handy for passing shots, and Walter went below

for the basket of shedder crabs for bait.The tackle rig is a stout three-way swivel with

a 4-ounce pyramid sinker on a 9-inch line at the

lower end of it, the 18-strand main line at the upper

end, and a strong twisted gut leader a yard longattached to the middle

loopof the swivel. This

leader may have one or two hooks, as preferred.It is imperative to cast at least a hundred feet

from the boat if you want big fish, and the water

in the Hole is 27 feet deep, with the tide scouringinto it like a mill-race

;so light tackle is out of the

question. I once tried a standard black-bass bait-

casting line in the Hole, but never again! Youhad to "play" even an ordinary sea crab harder

than a two-pound bass to land him, and every bigsalt-water fish that took hold broke the 12-pound

bass line I was using.Be that as it may, we three rigged our surf-cast-

ing outfits and baited up as soon as possible. Wal-

ter and I cast two hundred feet from, the boat,


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136 SHOOTING FOR BOYSwhile the Kid, with a light boat rod, fished directly

under the Ladybird for flounders. He also wasthe first to report a bite. An unmistakable yankon a rod that refused to budge told us that he was

anchored into a big fish and then a prodigious" hurrah 's-nest" broke out below! The Kidcould not turn the reel handle during the fish's

rushes, but he could thumb the reel spool, and hestuck to it like a puppy to a root, with the rod

butt under his armpit and some of it sticking out

beyond his shoulder-blades.' '

Gee, papa, how he pulls !' ' would come the per-

spiringbulletins as the red-faced

11-year-oldcranked away at his reel during the intervals when

the fish wasn't bent on taking soundings to the bot-

tom of Jones' Hole. Finally he came to the sur-

face and Walter netted him deftly, a big flounder

a yard long that went five pounds flat.

The Kid swelled with pride as he beheld his van-

quished foe flopping about in the cockpit. "Gee,

papa!" he burbled, "that's the very biggest fish I

ever caught in my life ! ' '

"I'll grab his grandfather for you in a jiffy,"

chirped Walter, despatching the flounder with a

club, and he picked up his rod, took a feel of the

tide-strain on sinker to assure himself that there

were no crabs chewing his bait, and resumed his


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SHORE BIRD SHOOTING 137attitude of tense expectancy on the engine hatch

in the stern of the Ladybird.

Presently, "Whoa, there, you Betsey Jane!"We all watched him and distinctly saw the secondfaint tug which denotes a big tide-runner weak-

fish taking hold.

"Now, you Betsey Jane ! you behave yourself!"

said Walter sotto voce, scolding his rod as if itwere a pet dog. YinkU The Kid's fish was as

nothing to this baby! Nearly two hundred feet

from the boat and twenty-seven feet under the

waves, he slashed the line through the water like

a ripsaw, circling and summersaulting about,while the master-fisherman at the other end of the

debate gave him line when he got too fierce, andreeled him in, inflexible as Destiny, the rest of the

time. As he neared the boat the action becameswifter and swifter ; he circled the duckboat, forc-

ing Walter to pass his rod under the painter of

the latter;he had to be held back by main strength

from taking a turn about our anchor rope; he

dove under the power-boat, wrapping the stout

Betsey Jane around the Ladybird's bottom; he

bored straight down for the depths of the Hole,

tugging the line foot by foot and yard by yardfrom under Walter's reluctant thumb; and pande-monium broke loose by the yellful as I finally


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scapped him and Walter beat his brains out in the

cockpit with the oaken billy.

" Eight and one-half pounds and as long as an

oar," announced he, holding up the scales, while

the Kid stood around with popping eyes and

openly adored him. It was a big ocean weakfish

thirty-one inches of iridescent silveriness, gor-

geous with red and pearl and opal scales flashingin the sunlight ; the sea trout, one of the most beau-

tiful fish that swims in the ocean and as unlike the

little quarter-grown bay weakfish in his fighting

powers as bass is unlike perch.

All this time my line had receiv

Documents

Boys Book of Hunting and Fishing